


To Rid of Their Shadows

by malumtractanda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Next Generation, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Next-Gen, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23429740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malumtractanda/pseuds/malumtractanda
Summary: "Tamper with the deepest mysteries — the source of life, the essence of self - only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind." — Chapter 2: The First Fundamental Law of Magic, Magical Theory
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Character/Original Character, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas





	To Rid of Their Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been sitting in my scrivener for the better part of a year now. And I thought I should let someone else besides my own eyes read it. This my first published fic in years, and the first one posted on this site!
> 
> Please bear in mind that this is not entirely within canon of the epilogue of Deathly Hallows, nor is it entirely canon within the contents of The Cursed Child. 
> 
> This is not beta read. I am afraid all errors are entirely my own. As are my original characters. I do hope you enjoy!

The disappearance of her mother, that early summer morning in August, could only but promise that this year’s annual visit to Diagon Alley would end with disastrous results. 

Though, Oleisia supposed that “disappearance” would be the wrong word to use. After all, she knew a general reason why her mother had left, an approximate location of her whereabouts, and a quick “will owl soon,” to suggest when she’ll hear from her mother again. Still, that early morning in August greet Oleisia with a clear air of absence. Their house shifted as normal. The distance sound of frustrated fluttering and impatient hooting echoed through the halls and up the stairs right to Oleisia’s door. The strong aroma of blackberry sage tea carried from the charmed kettle it slowly steeped in. The house groaned, as if shift and stretched, trying to fill the empty space that usually rumbled through the small library at the wee hours of the morning. Or the empty space, who lumbered on the kitchen floor with worn, now less fuzzy, bedroom slippers. 

So, naturally, the word “disappearance” reared its ugly head with the quiet absence of her mother. The thought would have grown more grotesque with worry. If it was not for her Yiayia. Who was perched on the family couch in the orange morning light, bamboo purse clutched in her lap, patiently waiting for her granddaughter to come down stairs. Her water gazed looked upon the charmed bowls that were being filled to the brim with levitating Coco Pops. Which hardly counted as packing peanuts, much less food. At least, according to Oleisia’s Yiayia. 

Yiayia’s unexpected visits promised: plentiful home-cooked meals, and snacks (and more often than not, snacks between snacks), numerous flamboyant retellings abouts their distant relatives in Kalamata, additions to the growing list of what Oleisia should expect to inherit from her Yiayia, and, most importantly, that her mother’s departure was due to a work-related emergency, somewhere within the northern hemisphere. And that she would return home...eventually. 

So, as the summer began to trickle away, and the promise of a new school year dawned, their Yiayia continued with her stories and her rampant cooking. The owl with a letter addressed from somewhere in the northern hemisphere never arrived.

* * *

Oleisia sighed indignantly as she all but slammed her recently bought, and now ruined, school books onto a table nestled against the walls of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. The noisy clunk against the table was drowned out by the constant buzzing that absorb the air of Diagon Alley, coating every crevice with an overwhelming ambiance. Large groups of gitty students, and frazzled parents consumed the narrow walkway. The shops were worse, as large number of customers, most spilling out into the congested alley, tried to nab dwindling supplies and demand the attention of the few employees that dared scoured the floor. 

The same crowd, that moments ago, bumped Oleisia’s newest purchase out of her hands, and proceeded to crush it, with a surge of worn trainers and immaculate dress shoes, into the dirty water that was nestled between the cobblestones. The scarlet inked, tattooed detail of how to care for and prepare one’s dittany bled onto the busy pathway. Oleisia glared down at her textbooks. Her initial irritation uncoiled into resigned exhaustion. She fiddled with her bobby pins that were actively losing their own war with her dark wavy hair. Begrudgingly ignoring the dampness from her hands that began to soak into her tangles. 

Underneath the sound of the bustling throng there was something which peaked at Oleisia’s ears. Her head slowly swiveled around, searching for something she couldn’t quite place. Her brow furrowed curiously and her muscles twitched like a spooked tabby. A low squeal erupted from a nearby shop and her heart raced as the pitch increased to an ear splitting screech. Her breath hitched as a familiar lump lodged itself in the middle of her throat. The crowd gasped and cried. People jumped out of the way as a burst of bright colors shattered through the storefront window. Steamed fireworks danced upward towards the sky. The lights whirled and popped, and as her eyes trailed down to follow the falling sparks she noticed Milos within a group of young, laughing boys. His shoulder-length chestnut hair bobbed as he craned his neck towards the sky. 

A furious shout from the purple-faced shopkeeper jolted the boys temporarily out of their elated stupor. The group dispersed with large grins on each of their faces. Milos, the smallest of the group, hesitated as his head jerked hurriedly, deciding which boy to follow in his escape. The shopkeeper pointed a round finger and began to yell violently, his assault growing more incoherent as he took in the damage of his store. Oleisia nearly shouted for her brother to run, before he finally pivoted, running off in the opposite direction of his sister. Oleisia quickly followed suit, brushing past the few witches and wizards that began clearing the charred debris that littered the storefront. 

The shopkeep spied Milos, and tumbled after him. His angry stupor caused him frequently trip over splintered wood planks, allowing Milos to pull ahead out of read, and for Oleisia to push through. The sight of the man’s unsheathed wand caused Oleisia to roughly wrench out her own from her back pocket. Her wand, made of beech wood and the core of a horned serpent’s horn, pointed towards a group of barrels that Milos brushed past as if of its own volition. 

“Epoximise,” Oleisia muttered, once she managed to run alongside the pursuing shopkeep, flicking her wand from the barrel to the angry gentleman. One of the sets of barrels roughly tipped over as Popping Pygmy Puffs flew straight to him. The joke toys began to stick to his overcoat, making a squealed pop, dyeing the man’s long beard purple and pink. The thick dye covered his face and clothes. The colorful shadows stopped the man dead in his tracks as more Popping Pygmy Puffs, soared from the fallen barrel, and attached to him. The force of the multiple joke toys knocked him back. Color consumed the air, latching on to any witch or wizard within radius. 

Oleisia rushed ahead into the midst of the crowd, most who surprisingly seemed unperturbed by the earlier set of fireworks, or the thickened pink and purple cloud. They continued to push past into neighboring shops, despite their clothes gradually changing hues and their shoes crunching on shattered glass. Oleisia finally found a gap in the bustling crowd, allowing her to flee from the havocked scene. 

Oleisia slowed as she assured that she was far enough away from the joke shop, and the group of people began to thin to a few stragglers outside of the less busy shops. Her hands shook as she tucked wand back away into the deep pockets of her trousers. After a moment of just standing there in the middle of the pathway, the thumping of her heart subsided. Relief washed over her with an unexplained amount of giddiness. A heavy breath, combined with a short unstopped laugh, elevated her head to a tilt. The drop of her tense shoulders drew her arms to her cocked hips. Her snort turned to small fits of giggles as she allowed herself to picture the purple-faced older wizard covered head to toe in a more vibrant shade of purples and pinks. 

A smaller, hesitant laugh joined hers. Milos peeked his head from around the corner of an adjacent alleyway, wearing a thin layer of dust on his jumper and a timid smile. 

A timid smile that grew even more timid when Oleisia began her march to him. Her face morphed to the clenched jaw of her mother’s, and to the glowing disappointment of her Yiayia’s brown eyes. Milos fidgeted under her glare, as she struggled to know what to do with her hands. Whether to brush back the curtains of hair from his face to make sure he was not harmed from the flying glass, or to flick his ear. A chorus of anger and avoided fear bubbled up to her throat as a thin “why?” One of her twitching hands finally decided to rest splayed across her eyes. 

Milos recededed even more into his shell, his hair covering his face completely as he regarded his shoes with sudden interest. His shoulders shook unevenly. Oleisia did not need to see her brother’s face to know that his eyes were screwed tight, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth. Oleisia felt her heart clench. Her secondhand nature to hold grudges reluctantly willed away. It was more willingly willed away when she noticed her brother’s shoulders snapped tense. His hands reached for the collar of his shirt. He stretched the stitching as if it was tightening around his neck. Oleisia gripped his shoulders tightly and nearly dragged him to a small wedge of the wall that lay beside the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron and an abandoned building.  
Milos lifted his head, his gaze moved past the the surrounding solid walls as his chest heaved. His hands still pulled harshly at his shirt. 

“Milos,” she called him, swallowing thickly. Her eyes flicked hurriedly from her brother, to the oblivious cloaked wizards that walked past them. 

“It will go away, Milos—” She cut herself off. Her reassurance felt shaky even to her own ears. She took a deep breath loudly from her nose for show. 

“Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths, Milos. Just me and you, remember? It is just me and you.” 

She continued their vocal mantra for a few more tense moments. Milos’ silent panic breath subsided. Oleisia’s gaze still latched onto her brother until her brown eyes peeked to her’s. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Milos repeated. His own mantra came in quick successions. His words were clumsy and awkward, but he continued to repeat them. Until he spoke them once more, softly. His grip around his collar lessened. But the tightness in his shoulders remained. 

Oleisia tried to hide how the knee-bending sense of relief overtook her when Milos finally let go of his collar. Though, she could not stop herself from slumping against the wall behind her. Her mind then buzzed angrily. Mostly towards herself. For letting her brother go off alone for only a moment. For the sick sense of relief she had felt earlier when she ventured into the book shop unaccompanied. She should have known. The presence of the busy crowd alone… 

“When I heard the blast,” The words rushed past her lips without a thought. Although, she was unsure if she could have kept the dreaded thought that brewed in her mind if she tried. 

Milos shook his head weakly. The now stretched fabric of his collar sat oddly around his neck. He avoided her eyes once more. “We were at the candy shop. We were all there to buy some jelly slugs. They bought the fireworks from, from somewhere else and wanted to test them out. The asked me to go along to help carry them.” 

A million questions zipped rapidly through her head like a quaffle in the middle of a Quidditch match. Questions and flimsy justifications bounced back and forth, hitting off each other in rapid succession. Each making less sense than the last. The same small question whispered an echo that she sought to push away. She continued to ignore that harsh whisper as Milos collected himself. 

The small bag of candy, that Oleisia failed to noticed uptil now, twisted and ripped in his wrung hands. Oleisia gently pried it out of his hands and placed the bag in her back jean pocket. A few loose pieces of knuts candy rolled out of the ruined bag and rested against the stem of her wand. 

“Let’s go. We still have a week to grab our supplies before we have to leave.” 

The siblings peeled themselves from the small alley as they slowly made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. 

“I’m really sorry, ‘Lei. I— I just wanted. I mean, I was trying to,” his fumbled words cut short with a frustrated breath. He kicked his shoes at the patch as if it was the cause of his entire day. 

His bleak voice spoke once more, even softer than before. “You — You think what I did was rather, kind of...cunning?” 

Oleisia stopped short at the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron. The room had an overwhelming burn of firewhiskey, and the lingering aroma of the day’s soup. She side eyed her brother, her expression pinched. “I’m not sure.” 

“Paidi mou! What are you two doing here so early? And where are your things? I thought you said you needed to come to the alley to get ready for school?” A short stump of a lady, no taller than Milos tumbled towards the pair with her bamboo purse and a slip of paper in hand. Oleisia rushed to quickly straightened the two out. While she brushed the dust of Milos’ shoulder with one hand, the other pulled harshly at the bobby pins littered in her hair. 

Oleisia smiled brightly at her grandmother, the stress melted off her face as smoothly as she could. “Yiayia! Milos and I decided to come back another day. The place is just too busy.” 

Yiayia inquired them suspiciously. She briefly glanced at the pink strand that stood in contrast of Oleisa’s dark hair. Her withered, freckled hand unfolded the paper in her grip. “But, your mother said you two needed your supplies as soon as possible. I understand you have to leave in a week, so.” 

Oleisia hummed for a quick moment in thought. “Oh, Yiayia, we would have gone and got out things, but we both realized we are quite hungry.” And with a covert jerk to his shoulder, Milos looked at his grandmother pleadingly, his brown eyes round and with a slight pout. Oleisia would not be all that surprised if her younger brother was actually starving. With a quick snap of her bamboo purse, the slip of paper now tucked away, the trio left immediately. The very distance sound of squealed pops left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this little adventure. I have quite a few chapters already prepped, so hopefully I will be able to upload them in a timely manner. I look forward to any feedback :)


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